


Drowned or Cleansed

by Psychicninja90



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, First time publishing on this site, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, They are both sweethearts that deserve happiness, devil reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:32:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psychicninja90/pseuds/Psychicninja90
Summary: When a confrontation ensues, truths pour out like rain, but she wonders if they are being drowned or cleansed.





	Drowned or Cleansed

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own these characters. They are owned by DC, Vertigo, and Neil Gaiman and a lot of more talented people than I.

“Please. Just tell me. Why does everyone seem to know something I don't? Why won't you--” What should she say? Let her in anymore? He never had really. No matter how many times she had offered to be his confidant, he had turned her away.

_But you can't understand, Detective. And you never will._

“Let me help you. My gut's telling me that you're in trouble.”

It was raining outside because the Universe had a sense of humor and thought that every dramatic confrontation needed rain. Chloe wasn't sure why. Was it because of the ambient noise of rain hitting the roof and ground provided natural background music to emphasize a tumultuous situation? Or was it the symbolism? Lies being worn away by the gentle and steady rhythm of falling truths nourishing a dormant relationship to sprout into something stronger and more beautiful than before? Or simply a relationship worn away slowly by little hurts?

Were they being cleansed?

Or slowly drowned?

Chloe stared at her hands as they shook from--nerves, hurt, both?--but she was able to keep her voice steady. “And I think it has something to do with me...Did I do something? Did I--did I push you too hard or...”

She trailed off, the possibility of her hurting constricting her throat.

Looking agog at the insinuation, his head jerked up. “No! You've done nothing wrong.”

His sincerity was plain, but she did not feel any relief. He seemed to sense this as he continued speaking.

“It's my Father. Neither of us had a choice in this,” he said gesturing between them. “We were _meant_ to meet. I left to protect you.”

“From what?” she asked, ignoring the mention of his father.

“From me, from my world! From being used as a pawn in a cosmic chess game between two feuding deities.”

She could tell it was the truth. At least part of it. There were extra details that she didn't believe, but she was a stubborn woman and she was determined to understand even if it meant suspending some of her own beliefs.

“So this is about your Devil thing?”

He sighed and visibly sagged under the weight of his frustration and despair. “It is always about my Devil thing, yes. Not that you believe me.”

She took a deep breath and sat down. Looking at him she tried to make her face as open as possible. She wanted, _needed_ , to understand. After a moment's hesitation, he continued. “My Father made you."

She quirked her brow in confusion.

"Your parents had difficulty conceiving, yes?"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. _How?--_ "Yeah...they used to say I was...a miracle."

Lucifer's smile was full of affection and sadness. "That's because you are. He sent Amenadiel to bless your parents to have you. To place you in my path.”

Instincts stirred in her mind, but her skepticism won. However she refused to deny him when he had finally started to let her in.

“To what end?”

“I don't know. That's the bloody problem! I don't know Dad's plan, but I couldn't risk your safety just for my happiness. I couldn't risk your freedom.”

“I don't understand.” Her safety? What danger was she in? He said his happiness, so that meant--

He sighed miserably again. “What you felt for me, you were manipulated to feel. I can't allow—no one should be forced to...”

Eyes searching hers, he stared through to her heart, which broke at the longing and insecurity there, until he looked away with a sad smile. “To care about me.”

Her shoulders slumped with the weight of the new information. “So, that's it? After everything we've been through, was any of it real? Our friendship? Our partnership? Was any of it real? To you? Because it was real to me. I don't believe in fate, but obviously you do. Does that change our feelings for each other?”

“It became real. I think...I don't know. I'm so confused! It _feels_ real. But how can I trust that? Trust _Him_? I can't be selfish. Not when it could hurt you.” He sat across from her and reached out his hands towards her, almost touching her, but he quickly grabbed his knees instead. “That's why I left. To save you from the obligation of caring about me. I want your happiness and health above all else.”

There it was. The crux of his delusion was his belief that he was inherently evil and therefore unworthy of even the smallest happiness. Simply he was scared of being abandoned again. Abandonment and rejection were old friends of her own, so she understood the desire to build walls, to being content with loneliness, but ironically he had shown her differently. He believed in her. She wanted so badly to help him, to reciprocate, but he needed to accept that help first and he needed to believe her sincerity. How to get through to him? How to make him see?

Tentatively she touched his arm. The last time they had touched each other seemed like ages. Casual touches of hand on hand, his hand on the small of her back, shoulder to shoulder at his piano, had been natural between them. His fire met her cool water and they both enjoyed the sizzle as they coalesced. Now all she wanted was his warmth, but was afraid to get burned. He looked at her hand then at her with a pained expression, but still covered her hand with his own. Apparently, he shared her fear.

“You don't think you're a part of that happiness? I have always made my own choices, Lucifer. I chose to work with you. I chose to be your friend.” She paused a moment to steady her voice, holding back tears. “I chose to kiss you.”

His eyes were unbelieving, but he said nothing.

“Do you regret it?” she asked quietly.

“What?”

“Do you regret meeting me? Becoming my partner? My...friend?” My almost something more.

He stared straight into her with a somewhat puzzled expression and her heart beat a little faster. He didn't lie, if the truth would hurt her than he probably wouldn't say anything or wouldn't answer the question directly. His answer held so much of her self-worth, more than she was willing to admit.

“No,” he breathed and she physically relaxed (and hoped he didn't notice), “but I fear you may. I'm—I'm not whole, Detective.”

The tears flowed freely now, as she shook her head.

“You think you're the only broken one here? Maybe that's what makes this work. Maybe we're just two souls who haven't been loved enough. We found each other to heal each other; we both see in the other what we don't believe in ourselves.”

“And what do you see, Detective?”

Turning his hand over in hers, she began to trace the lines of his palm. “I see a man who has lost so much, but still loves so deeply to the point where he would sacrifice his own happiness just to protect others. I see a man who cares about justice.”

He snorted derisively and turned his face away. “You're a gigantic dork.” She gently made him look at her. “And you're actually great with kids although you would never admit it. You make me laugh. You say the right things when it counts. You are good and strong and so very sweet. You're a good friend and a good man. I think you've been abandoned and rejected so much you don't believe that anymore.”

With her eyes, she tried to make him believe.

_Please. Please see through my eyes._

“Thank you, Detective.”

He took her hand and placed a soft lingering kiss on her palm. It sent tingles up her arm, but it felt like good-bye. The way he closed his eyes and inhaled made it seem as if he was memorizing her. Then he pulled away too soon and stood, taking several steps back. Chloe made to follow, longing for the contact again, but he raised his hands in an almost placating gesture. His expression was distraught, fearful, yet resigned.

“But I am a monster. And perhaps now it's time to make you see that.”

“Lucifer, what--”

“Please. I should have shown you long ago. Then I would have spared you this pain. Better late than never, right?” he said with a weak attempt at humor. “All the same...I am sorry.”

He stared at her for a moment; his eyes roving over her face. A single tear fell as he closed them.

And he changed.

And she gasped.

What once was creamy soft skin was replaced with a red and angry scarred face. He looked as though he had been burned all over his body. With a jolt, she realized that he had been burned, when he Fell to Earth and then passed into Hell. Hairless and shining in the dim light, she stepped back in shock as the truth hit her. _It's not like he never told you._ He had never lied to her. He was the _Devil._ Her best friend was the Enemy, the Deceiver, the King of Hell. For months, she had worked with, kissed even! the actual Devil. It was as though her mind opened more as she realized the truth further. She lived with a demon. With her daughter no less and she was...

She was...

Taking stock of her emotions, yes she was shocked. Her entire belief system had just blown up in smoke. And everything that encompassed his truth, including her endangered life and her being a miracle, was a little overwhelming.

But she wasn't afraid.

Despite the obvious change, from the shape of his nose, to the cleft in his chin, it was still his face. He was still her Lucifer. Lucifer who made inappropriate jokes while on cases; Lucifer who could turn anything into a sexual innuendo; Lucifer who looked after her daughter; Lucifer who embraced her when she was crying; Lucifer who danced with her; Lucifer who believed in her; who believed himself unworthy of her; Lucifer who saved her life; who literally _died_ for her she realized.

Her Lucifer was the most reviled being in all of history and his greatest fear was that she would hate him too. Obviously scarred in body and in heart, Lucifer had the lowest sense of self-worth imaginable. And although she didn't agree with them, she then understood all of his actions. If she hadn't forgiven him before she forgave him now. All she felt was anger at his parents, affection, protectiveness, and just--- Ugh! He was such a good, worthy, annoying, obnoxious idiot. But he was _her_ idiot. And he didn't know. How long had she been silent about her feelings?

“Oh Lucifer,” she breathed.

“You're still here?” His voice was shaking as he hesitantly opened his eyes and her heart broke at the fear and disbelief there. Although they were the color of Hellfire, she could still see him in there. He was still her Lucifer.

She gave him a watery sad smile and crossed the distance between them in two large strides. Carefully cradling his face, she noticed that he was breathing shallowly.

“Am I hurting you?”

He shook his head slightly, but his breathing was still ragged and she could feel him resisting her gaze.

“Hey. It's okay. Lucifer, it's okay," she whispered and she kissed him, gently, on his lips. She put everything she felt, everything she couldn't yet say into her kiss. It took him a couple of beats to unfreeze, but eventually he responded to her kiss and it felt like home. Breathlessly they pulled apart and he had returned to his usual appearance. There was still fear in his eyes, but she could see it being overwhelmed by hope and maybe something they were _both_ not ready to express. She gently pulled him down until they were forehead to forehead. The rain beat a steady rhythm outside, surrounding them.

Were they being drowned or cleansed?

“You're still here.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Why?”

She took a deep breath. Ready or not, he needed to know. “Because I love you.”

As she heard him gasp, she could almost feel the disbelief and a tear fell out of her eye. “But you're never going to believe me are you?”

She pulled back from him. “Lucifer if you don't want this. If you don't believe in this, then whatever happens next, it's up to you. Even if that means...”

Fear and desperation entered his eyes then and swallowing her own, she pushed on.

“I just want you to be happy Lucifer. Whatever that means.”

“I--I don't know.”

She gave him a sad smile. “It's okay. You don't have to decide anything right now.”

Pulling away from him she tried to hide the tears forming in her eyes as she quickly gathered her things.

“Detective--”

“No, it's okay. I'll see--” she squeezed her eyes shut. “Good-bye Lucifer,” she whispered. 

 

* * *

 

The rain pounded down on her, but she was grateful for the cold wetness. It was a good distraction from the burning pain. Trying to see through the heavy droplets, she sifted through her purse, but her keys were no where to be found.

“Come on!” She threw her purse to the ground.

“Seriously?!” she railed against the thundering sky.

“Why did you do this?! Why did you make me? To hurt him? Well, you messed up because I will never hurt him! I mean why would you even treat him like that? How could you let your own son believe he doesn't deserve love? Don't you think he's been punished enough?! You—suck! You just suck! You're a shitty Dad and a shitty god!”

“I hate to interrupt this wonderful tirade against my Father, but I believe I have what you're looking for.”

She spun around, her heart beating wildly and there he was standing, holding her keys, looking guilty and terribly sad. His hair was a mess of curls that were plastered to his face, the rain had caused his white shirt to become translucent and cling to his skin. Heat grew in her face as she realized she was staring and immediately she looked away. God, he was beautiful. And God was such a _dick_ to do this to her right now.

“You left so suddenly, it seems you left something important behind.”

If he noticed her blush he didn't mention it. Still she hesitantly brought her eyes to his. “I wanted to give you time.” She frowned as something clicked into place. “Did you steal my keys?”

He laughed a little. “Yeah, sorry. I had a feeling I would need them.”

He raked his hand through his hair, the action messing his hair even more and making him even more attractive. Stealing her keys to make her stay was—well annoying, but just so _him._ And he seemed to be genuinely sorry. The sheepish grin on his face made him look boyish and cute. With a jolt she remembered that he was the Devil. She thought the Devil was boyish and cute.

Chloe shook her head. Misinterpreting the action he continued to explain himself.

“I figured that I would cock things up, so I just...” He lifted his hands in a defeated gesture then handed her keys to her. Sighing again, he shifted from foot to foot nervously.

“Look, I felt forced and manipulated—that you had been as well—and I've been punishing you. I was trying to protect you from me and in doing so I hurt you. I am so sorry. I've been a right idiot and complete ass. I wasn't lying when I said you deserve so much better than me, Detective.”

She smiled at him fondly. “Why don't you let me decide what I deserve? For someone who's big on choice, you haven't given me one.”

He smiled a little in return, but she could still see the doubt in his eyes. “What if He _is_ controlling you? What if what you're feeling isn't real?”

“It's real to me. Doesn't that mean anything?” His face turned pensive and she took the opportunity to close the distance between them.

“I meant what I said before. I want this. I want _you_. But nothing happens unless you want it too.”

His eyes searched her face and Chloe prayed to, not God, but to _him._ For him to see her love for him shining; for him to realize that he was a part of her now and she never wanted that part missing. Staring back at her, his eyes softened and a small smile graced his face.

“I'm scared,” he said his voice cracking.

She returned the smile warmly. “Yeah. Me too.”

The rain began to lighten to a soft drizzle. Against her cheek it felt like a soft and loving caress. Lucifer's eyes closed involuntary and she wondered if he had felt it too. They leaned their foreheads together and he gave her the most velvet of chaste kisses.

Were they being drowned or cleansed?

“Dete—Chloe, there's something else.”

She hummed in question.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

Both.


End file.
